A/N: Hey guys, sorry for the wait.

For any of you who follow my tumblr, you know that I recently moved so I've been quite busy. Sorry again though! Maybe I'll be able to pick some stories back up finally :3

Anyway, enjoy! :D

Seven rolled around a little too fast for Stan's tastes. Only about three hours worth of practicing just what the hell to say to Kenny and Kyle didn't do him well.

'Have you guys ever considered filming a movie?'...No

'So...are you guys into porn?' No.

'So...would you two ever consider watching the other getting fucked?' Definitely no.

He groaned, standing outside of Shakey's waiting for the other two and scratching his hair up through his hat. This was way too fucking complicated for simple Stan's tastes. He finally decided that Kenny was the lesser of two possible evils, he'd be the one to bring this up to.

He heard two distinct voices approaching him, looking over and seeing the two of them walking towards the restaurant talking. Stan couldn't help but let his eyes linger on Kyle. How the hell was he even walking straight? Of course it'd been at least four days since that filmshoot...but still. He looked like he was hurting a hell of a lot.

Said boy looked over at him, flashing him a huge smile.

Too innocent of a smile.

"Hi, Stan!" he called out, waving a bit. He picked up the pace, leaving the side of Kenny and running over to him. "Dude, it's been like, forever since we saw each other," he grinned.

Stan nodded, vaguely remembering the last time they actually saw each other was when he and Kyle had met to play basketball what with Stan's busy work schedule and all. He frowned at himself as he mentally questioned the boy, 'And just how many people have you fucked since then?'

"Hey, Stanny boy," Kenny came up, smirking at him. "And to what do we owe the pleasure of your charity tonight?"

Stan forced a smile across his face, "Well like Kyle said, it's been awhile. Figured we may as well catch up. And I got paid a few days ago, so I don't mind. 'Sides, I haven't seen you in longer, Ken," he smirked. "Gotta know what's up in your world."

He snorted. "Gettin' drunk, bein' mad, fuckin' Ky. There. You're all caught up."

Stan had to bite his tongue at the 'fucking Kyle' comment. "Well...shall we?" he opened the door for them.

"Thanks," Kyle grinned at him as he passed. Kenny followed, looking at Stan suspiciously.

"You all right?" he asked lowly, out of Kyle's earshot. "You're lookin' at me weird."

"Nothing," he shook his head. "Just feelin'...weird is all," he shrugged. Kenny nodded, still looking rather warily as he followed the redhead. Stan followed close behind, letting out a lengthy breath. This was going to be harder than he thought...

They walked in and sat down at a corner booth, Kenny and Kyle squeezed into one side and Stan on the other. They stared at each other awhile before Stan cleared his throat. "So...how've you been? How's married life goin?" he smirked, moving his leg in anticipation for Kyle's kick.

"Shut the fuck up, we're not married," he glared.

"Not yet," Kenny teased, throwing his arm around Kyle's shoulders. "Though we already have the apartment, the bills, and the cat. So, we're just a paper signature away."

"You wish," Kyle scoffed, rolling his eyes before settling back on Stan. "We're doing fine, thanks," he said.

Stan nodded as the waitress came up. They ordered a round of cokes and a large pepperoni pizza. Everything the same old same old minus Stan's little knowledge of the two of them, and it was eating away at him like a group of ravished termites.

"How've you been, Stanny?" Kenny asked, his arm still looped around Kyle, Stan noticed.

He shrugged, "Fine. Work sucks and all that but it's whatever."

"Hm," he nodded.

Stan leaned back, sighing and tapping his finger on his thigh. This was just too awkward. It's like they knew that he knew, that it was a disgusting cloud of filth that hung in the air. Dirty, sweaty, shameful filth.

"So, Ky," he started. "Did you...look up schools like you were talking about?"

Kenny blinked before looking down at Kyle. "School? What school?" Kyle shot Stan a furious glance. Oops. Apparently he hadn't talked to Kenny about this yet.

Kyle looked up at his boyfriend and shrugged. "I...I was...looking for a cheap college to go to," he said slowly. "I have the scholarship money for a decent enough place...I just wouldn't have all the bills paid off."

Kenny blinked again. "Kyle, you know I want to put you in school but we can't right now."

"I know, I know," he nodded sadly. "I...I was just looking. Not applying or anything. Just needed to look to convince myself I couldn't."

"Wait, wait, wait," Stan interrupted, the both of them looking at him. He leaned on the table, staring at them. "Why exactly can't you?" Kyle and Kenny looked at each other before each of them shrugged a bit. The waitress came back with their drinks and set them down, winking at Stan and scurrying away. He rolled his eyes at her briefly before looking back at the two of them, who seemed to be very interested in stirring their Cokes. "Guys, answer me," he insisted.

Kyle looked up at him first, Stan for the first time noticing the bags under his eyes in the restaurant lighting. "Stan...we're really fucking poor right now," he sighed, leaning against Kenny.

"Aren't your parents giving you money?" he asked. "You told me they were."

"I lied," he said thickly, looking away. "I have a little bit left from my old job but...but since it closed down neither of us have found a new one."

"Yeah, ain't nobody hirin' this time of year," Kenny scoffed. "One near-high school dropout and one kid who can't lift anything over forty pounds. It's a monster of a world, Stanny. Be thankful for what ya have," he squeezed Kyle's shoulders pointedly.

Stan stared at them. "But...what about your parents?" he asked again. "Sheila and Gerald mus-"

"Want nothing to do with me," Kyle snapped, his lips set firmly. Stan recoiled a bit. "Since I moved in with Ken, they've decided that I don't need their money because they got the idea that me leaving meant that I was leaving the family."

"...Move back?" he suggested with a wince. "Maybe they'll let Kenny crash."

"Hah," Ken scoffed, taking a long sip of his drink. "Please. Sheila and Gerald ain't never liked me. Then when they found out I was nailing their sweet little innocent Kyle, well, things got a little out of hand."

"What the-" Stan stopped, absolutely shocked and quite a bit hurt that Kyle hadn't told him the truth about all this. The hell happened to everything being just fine? "What happened?"

"My mom went ballistic," Kyle mumbled. "Then Dad tried literally throwing Kenny out the door."

"And I pushed him back and he fell over. Old fart went down like a sack a' bricks," Kenny said, a hint of pride lingering.

"After that...I just walked out," Kyle shrugged. "Mom told me to either choose between staying with, as she put it, 'someone who hasn't amounted to anything'," he air-quoted, Kenny's fingers wrapping angrily around his soda glass, "or not living in her house. So, I made my choice."

Stan sat in complete stillness. What the fuck had he been missing? Was he really so daft that he couldn't even catch when his best friend went through the one of the biggest catalysts to who he is now?

"So...what are you two...doing for money?" he asked, though his answer was vividly playing through his imagination.

"Odd jobs," Kyle responded robotically. "House sitting, cleaning up people's houses, mowing lawns. Ya know." Stan looked at him skeptically before shaking it off.

"Dude, why the hell didn't you tell me this?"

He looked at him tiredly, "Because you would worry too much."

"Fuck yeah I'm gonna worry!" he exclaimed. "Dude, you two are only goddamn twenty one! You shouldn't be wallowing through poverty already!"

"Story of my life," Kenny smirked, raising his glass in a fake toast before setting it back down. "Look, Stanny, we are where we are. Ky's parents won't let us in, my parents are in jail, we're stuck where we are. But we'll get through it."

Stan watched the two of them shift just slightly closer together. Something was still up. Desperation shouldn't matter. What he saw earlier that day was not something that the two of them would go through. He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose exhaustedly. He looked back at them with heavy eyes. "Dudes...I wish I could help but I'm barely making it myself."

"We don't need your help," Kenny snapped.

Stan jerked back at his outburst and Kyle sighed, patting Kenny's arm. "Dude, you know Kenny hates charity," he shrugged sheepishly. "Look we're...we're dancing on glass shards right now and it's hard," he winced. "We're having to be people who we never thought we would be. But we're getting through it. So long as we can scrape up the money for rent and food, we're gonna be okay."

"But Kyle, odd jobs won't get you through forever," Stan reminded him. "You're gonna fall short."

"Our landlord is fairly understanding," his lips quirked into a smile. "He gives us a little leeway. But we know it won't last us forever, that's why both of us are looking for jobs when we can."

'I don't see how you can with cocks shoved up your ass,' Stan thought, rather bitterly. He sighed, looking up as their pizza came to their table. They backed up and let the waitress set it down before running off. Stan stared at the steam rising from it, completely lost. This day had been nothing but horrible revelations for him. But as bad as he saw it was, it couldn't be nearly as terrible as what Kenny and Kyle felt about the whole mess. They all reached forward and grabbed a slice, throwing them down onto their plates and hissing as it burnt their fingers. "Fuck!" Stan yelped.

"You think we'd know this by now after all these years," Kyle chortled. The other two laughed with him, their tension finally dying down in the slightest.

Kenny poked at his, retracting his finger and shaking it off again. "Dammit! Well fine, I'm gonna go piss while this shit cools down." He pecked Kyle's cheek real quick and Stan couldn't help but smirk at Kyle's faint blush crossing over his narrow cheekbones. Kenny stood up and stretched, heading towards the restroom on the other side of the restaurant. Stan watched him go, biting his lip. This was his chance.

"I gotta go, too," he stated after waiting for Kenny to get to the bathroom, standing up. "Watch the table, yeah?"

"Need me to watch your purse so no one steals your tampons?" he asked dryly.

"Yeah, otherwise you're in for the Red Sea when I stand up again," he smirked, rolling his eyes. "Be right back." He quickly got to his feet and followed after Kenny. He paused, letting a few kids run by with their parents out of the restaurant. He bit his lip, carefully thinking over anything that might get Kenny upset enough to knock his lights out.

Calling Kyle a whore was probably far out of the question.

He sighed, pushing open the door and walking in, finding Kenny already washing his hands. Ken looked at him and smirked. "Couldn't go by yourself?"

"Nah, I need to talk to you," he said, closing the door firmly behind him. Kenny looked at him questionably.

"About? If this is about donations, I ain't up for it because I ain't your little tax write of-"

"No," he cut him short. "Look..." his stance suddenly faltered and his face went up in flames. This was just as awkward as he thought it would be. "Look...ya know...um...your computer?"


"And do you know how there's...internet on that computer?"

Kenny raised his brow questionably. "Yeesss..."

"And do you know how on that internet...you can find...videos of certain...thin-FUCK!" he screamed as Kenny slammed him back against the wall. He looked to see Kenny glaring at him with burning eyes.

"What did you find," he hissed, shaking him a bit.

Holy shit he was fucking furious.

Stan gulped, putting his hands up and grabbing Kenny's arms, tugging them off of him. "Look, you know what I found," he managed to say. Kenny's eye twitched, he looked fucking insane.

"What the FUCK, Stan!" he shouted.

"Hey, YOU put it online, not me!" Stan shouted back before taking a deep breath. He took off his hat, running his fingers through his hair as Kenny paced around the bathroom floor anxiously. "Ken," he said softly. Kenny looked up at him and Stan felt his stomach drop as he saw tears swimming the boy's eyes. "Ken..." he walked up, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What's going on?"

"What the fuck do you think?" he snapped. "We're poor and the only way we're making money is through that," he said, biting his lip and looking away. "No one wants our help with 'odd jobs'. We're too old or too young or too gay or...or whatever," he looked at the black-haired boy sadly. "We're in a bad spot, Dude."

Stan's shoulders dropped. "But...who's idea..."

"Kyle's," he shook his head, looking away. "It was Kyle's."

His jaw dropped. "No fucking way..."

He chuckled humorlessly. "Some guy...some guy stopped us when we were out walking one night. He...he offered Kyle fifty dollars for a blowjob..." he paused, looking up at him. "We're in such a tight spot," he said quietly.

"Why...who...what..." Stan fumbled for questions, too many darting through his mind for him to pick just one.

"That site that we put the videos on, they're actually profitable," he said. "You get so much money for how many views or whatever...one of the last videos we did, we got about three hundred dollars. Enough for about half our rent...But usually he just...'meets' people without the camera..." he looked down awkwardly.

Stan stood in silence for a few moments, unable to process this information. Kyle was a prostitute. Kyle. The one who spent all of high school yelling at him to study so he wouldn't end up in this exact situation. His best friend that he thought he knew everything about. It was almost too much. Kenny was staring at him, looking terrified of whatever Stan's next words would be. "And...how do...you feel about this?" he asked quietly.

Kenny's fear dropped viciously and he glared at him. "I'm in love with it," he sneered. "I love watching my boyfriend getting fucked and pushed around and choked and hurt by men we don't know. I love having to pick him up after the whole thing and clean him up and not go after the fucks who hurt him. I love the fact that I haven't touched him in months because he's so fucking ashamed of himself. I fucking LOVE it, Stan!" he screeched, his voice echoing in the acoustics of the small restroom. His shoulders dropped immensely and he shook his head softly. "I don't know what to do," he admitted in a defeated tone. "We're poor but...but he can't do this. We can't do this. I can't watch him do it and he won't let me take his place in the whole thing. Given no one wants me to, I've offered the other 'participants'," he rolled his eyes.

"Why not?"

"Because Kyle's a cute little guy and I'm a redneck who'd likely bite your dick off if you got it near my face," he shrugged. Stan couldn't necessarily argue with that.

"Look, Dude," he said, putting his arm around Kenny's shoulders. "You're right. You shouldn't have to go through this. Kyle especially. I mean...the thing I saw..."

"I'm guessing the new one?" he sighed tiredly. "He...he passed out after it," he said angrily. "Fuck, he was...a complete mess. I couldn't get him to calm down when he woke up. He just...couldn't stop freaking out, thinking I was gonna hurt him. He was completely delusional, ya know?"

Stan's face fell. "You have to stop this, Dude. Kyle's going to get really hurt one of these days. I mean, no offense but you don't have the qualification to help him if he's having episodes like that. You really need to stop."

"You think I don't know that?" he questioned. "You think that...that I want to keep doing this? It's Kyle that keeps bringing up the money, it's him that looks at our checkbooks and goes 'oh fuck, we need money or no food or no home'. Neither of us want this to keep going, Stan but until we find some other way for money then we're stuck," he sighed. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, shaking his head. "Yesterday...we met up with another one. The guy was...fucking crazy," he laughed dryly. "Tried to get Kyle to go home with him, saying shit like 'now he belonged to him'...this is just fucking insane."

"I doubt you're going to meet many reputable people in that field, Ken."

"Tell me about it," he grumbled, wiping his eyes and sniffling. "What the hell can I do, Dude? Aside from robbing a bank I'm shit out of options."

Stan opened his mouth to speak, biting his lip. "I wish you guys would have told me sooner," he sighs. "Maybe I could have worked something out with the old landlord and given you guys a place to crash while you got on your feet. My new one is some old bitch that had to have been widowed in like, 1910 or something," he rolled his eyes. "She won't let you stay with me." Kenny looked down and Stan bit his lip guiltily. "I mean...I don't have the money to give you," he said honestly. "And my parents won't give me money, neither will yours...I really don't know what to tell you, Dude."

Kenny looked at him with shining, somewhat conflicted eyes. "I appreciate you wanting to help, Stan," he said, though Stan could tell it took some forcing out on his part. "But...we'll figure something out. Hopefully more sooner than later."

"Hopefully," Stan agreed. He clasped Kenny in a hug and the blonde sighed, leaning his head down on Stan's shoulder.

"Thanks for not mentioning it in front of Kyle," he said softly. He pulled back and his eyes clouded up once again. "He would have been humiliated if you of all people knew."

"I think I know my best friend well enough to know some tact," he forced out a smirk. "I'll help you figure something out, all right?"

"Thanks, Man," he smiled sadly before Stan patted his back and started leading him out the bathroom door. They looked over towards their booth, both raising their brows as they found Kyle wasn't there. They hurried over, searching for him.

"What the hell," Stan murmured, scratching at his hair.

"Kyle?" Kenny shouted, peering around the corner of the wall down towards the small arcade center. "Dude, where the fuck is he?" he asked. Their waitress passed by, grabbing their half-empty glasses and refilling them. "Ma'am," Kenny asked, "Did you see where the other one sitting here went?"

"Hm?" she asked, looking at him before blinking and laughing. "Oh yes! He was just escorted out by a few older men," she smiled.

"What?" Stan asked.

"Oh shit!" Kenny didn't give time for her to so much as think about repeating herself before pushing past her and sprinting towards the door.

"Huh!" she scoffed. "Well that was rude," she pouted at Stan. "I think he made me spill soda on myself."

"Sorry," he said, grabbing his wallet and throwing her twenty dollars. "Go hit the dry-cleaners," he told her before turning on his heel and following Kenny out the door. He ran out, looking around and finding the blonde a good way down the street, looking around frantically.

"KYLE?" he called out. Stan ran up beside him, looking around with him.

"Who the hell would come 'escort' Kyle out? Not another customer I hope?" he looked at him unamused.

"No, a previous one," he mumbled, looking around in every direction frantically. He paused and Stan followed his stare, landing on a rather large man staring at them from an alley. "Hey! HEY YOU!" Kenny shouted, sprinting towards him with Stan on his heels. Stan stared at the man, vaguely recognizing him from somewhere. The man smirked, walking down into the alley as the two of them closed in on him. "Get back here!" Kenny screamed before they slid to a stop outside the alley, both of them feeling their stomachs lurch as they found Kyle being held by a monster of a man, his arm wrapped tightly around the boy's throat. Kyle's fingers were clutched around his sleeve trying to tug him off while looking at the two of them with terrified, flickering eyes.

"Hello," the one they followed smiled. Stan and Kenny moved in closer to one another, finding the group of five rather-angry looking men staring down on them. Stan blinked in faint recognition. These were the fuckers from the video he found...if they were here, this couldn't be good. They both locked eyes on Kyle, who was struggling to breathe in his panic.

"Let him go," Kenny demanded.

"No no no," the man shook his head. "You owe us something first."

Stan looked over, seeing Kenny's arms shaking with fury. "I told you, it would take longer than expected for the money to come in," he snapped. "I don't have your cut."

The man holding Kyle squeezed around his neck at his words. Kyle cried out airily, clawing frantically at his arm.

"STOP!" Kenny screamed, tearing at his hair with glistening eyes. Stan just looked between all of them, completely at a loss for what to do.

"We want our money, Kid," the first man demanded.

"I don't have it yet!" he insisted. "The fucking minute I get it, I'll give it to you, I told you that when we made our deal!"

The man stared at him before chuckling in a way that made the boys shiver. He stepped forward, grabbing Kenny's collar and ripping him towards himself. "I'll tell you what," he smirked. "We'll give you 24 more hours, but only because your boyfriend over there was just so good at what he did." Kenny's face fell darkly at that. "And if we don't have it by then," the man continued, "We'll make sure that he plays that part again for us. But this time, he won't be able to walk for a month. Got it?" Kenny's lips pressed firmly as he pushed out of the man's grip.

The man just smirked, nodding to the one holding Kyle. He threw Kyle out of his hold into the side of a dumpster beside him, the boy's head colliding against the metal in a deafening clang. He screamed out, his hand flying to his head as he curled up on the ground. Stan looked at Kenny who was staring down at the redhead with misty eyes. The blonde looked back up at the men as they started walking away, looking nothing short of chasing them down with a gun if he had the ability.

He dove down to Kyle's side, picking him up and leaning him against his chest, taking off his hat and looking at where he was hit. "Shit, he's bleeding," he murmured, wiping at a trickle of blood crawling down the boy's cheek. Kyle sniffled miserably, hiding his face in Kenny's chest, shaking and trying desperately not to sob. Kenny gently pet his hair and back, holding onto him and leaning his head atop of his, looking back at Stan with tired eyes.

"We're in a tight spot," he repeated softly.

Stan kneeled down beside the two of them, staring at him intently. "Kenny. Why do you owe them money?"

"I-" he paused, looking down as Kyle shook his head against him, squeezing his arms. "Kyle, he knows," he said, kissing his head lightly. Kyle looked over past his arm at Stan, his eyes completely glazed over with tears and his face flushed over with humiliation.

"How...why...oh god," he turned away again into Kenny's chest, trying to hide.

Kenny just sighed, squeezing him lightly. "That first guy that was talking, he found us first. He said if Kyle was...uh...good enough, he wanted to 'share' him with his little fuckin' pals," he muttered. "When we told him we were going to film it, they demanded we give them a cut of the profits. It was either that or walk away with no money at all so we said we would."

"But you don't even know how much you would make," Stan said. "Why the living hell would you go with that?"

"Kyle averaged out our usual profits and added in the popularity of the category and stuff," Kenny shrugged. "We gave them an estimate of what we would make."

"Well...well how much do you owe them then?" he asked slowly.

Kenny bit his lip, "Around six hundred dollars."

Stan's jaw dropped. "Six hundred dollars," he repeated.

"And we won't get the money for this video for about a month. I told them that but they're fucking coke-heads or some shit. They wanted it within a week but we just don't have that," he sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Shit," he shook his head, helping Kyle get to his feet and holding him tightly. Kyle looked over at Stan, his eyes completely deadened in sadness and embarrassment.

"How did you find it?" he whispered.

He stared at him a bit before shrugging. "Happened to browse the video category and...and the screencap looked like you...and I just had to see if it was or not."

Kyle looked down and away, still huddled into Kenny's form, his slender fingers clinging onto his coat. "Do...do you hate me?" he asked softly.

"Kyle..." Kenny tried before Kyle tensed up and stopped him.

"Do you?" he asked again, staring straight through Stan's eyes.

Stan looked at him sadly, "Dude, of course I don't. I don't care if you're doing this or you're a chemist, I'm still gonna be here," he walked over, throwing his arm around Kyle's shoulders. "I'll help you two find the money," he promised. "Unfortunately I only have about fifty bucks to spare as of now, but that brings you down to five hundred fifty to get at least."

"How are we going to make five hundred dollars before tomorrow?" Kyle asked quietly. "We can barely make that in a month."

"We'll find a way," Kenny promised him, holding onto him tightly and kissing his forehead. "Those fucks won't touch you again." Kyle just took a shuddery breath, nuzzling against the two of them as his shaking picked up, his fingers trembling as they remained clutched around Kenny's parka. Stan and Kenny looked at him before staring at each other worriedly. Stan bit his lip, rubbing Kyle's shoulder as they remained silent in that empty alley.

He couldn't help but feel guilty for this whole thing. If he'd caught onto their troubles sooner, if he'd been able to help them find a way to get out of debt and away from what they were doing now...He sighed. He knew it wasn't all his fault but he couldn't help feeling that string of guilt as he stared at the two broken boys. They were in more trouble than Stan could comprehend for himself. But now he was being pulled into their twisted, depraved world as well. And he knew well enough that the only way to get himself out, was to pull the two of them out with him.

Thanks for R&Ring!